I live to help craft a better Kusagakure, to protect it and uphold the virtue of its many lives. If you test them, you will answer to me.

Nindo
If you test me, you will fail.

Quote:

Physical Description:

Even before Haru made it his calling to uphold the rights and integrity of his people, he dedicated himself to the task of mastering his physical potential and tempering his body to endure life's many challenges. He has learned to wear his burdens well, crafting a vessel fit for purpose in each successive role. Tall and broad shouldered, his body is now a vehicle of the law: forearms like coiled serpents, ever on display; fingers and toes like bamboo; knuckles edged like iron; limbs carved from boughs of the mother tree.

Yet while he may be a man for the people, he is also a man of the people, whose fine, approachable features include a sharp nose, sleek jaw and winning smile, as well as bright, jade green eyes framed by hair the colour of a painted fern. Though he grows it long, he wears it short in a top knot with two grass-like braids left free to frame his lightly tanned face. Like the small beauty mark to the left of his lower lip, these have been part of his identity since childhood. He is who he has always been: a son of Kusa no Kuchi.

Clothing:

Although Haru knows little of his family’s history in the land of Bear, he values everything he inherited, including the traditional garments he has adapted to everyday life as a senior officer, shinobi and public figure: layered tunics tied off at the elbow with coloured cord and banded by a variety of darker, decorative sashes across his chest or waist; black combat-ready trousers and long shinobi boots or sandals; short, patterned kimonos, often worn over antiquated breastplates but always under the long, girdle sash that completes each outfit.

More ceremonial situations might demand a cloak instead of a kimono, or a different selection of armour pieces accumulated from Haru's travels in the Grasslands and beyond. This penchant for collecting equipment also extends to bladed armaments (his favourite service weapon being a black, dragon-headed katana) and the hairpieces for his top knot (fastening its length under fabric or precious metal accessories, some more complex, others more ornate) — small vanities to keep old ways alive.

Personality:

Haru the Stoic. Haru the Honest. There are those who like to put labels on things, on people, defining the traits they see shining brightest or admire the most. Haru doesn’t label. He accepts. He encourages. He came from both nothing and everything. Poor in pocket but rich in that which could not be seen, and which few people bother looking for. He believes in the potential of every man, woman and child to seek out their own ‘song of the soul’, to be and do whatever they want, within the confines of the law.

This quality was not always evident, concealed for the majority of his teenage years behind worry, ego and obsession, out of sight but never out of self. It is the source of all his goodness, inherited from his grandfather, and refracted through his response to each challenging situation. Following repeated failure, he trained himself to work tirelessly and often thanklessly to adapt to the needs of others, improving and persevering. Through success, he was taught the value of modesty and the power of humility. Furthermore, doubt and adversity demanded he craft strong mental and physical disciplines.

Always moving forward, each decision and deed hangs across his shoulders like a mantle of experience, adding to his presence. Where he steps, many follow. Where he advances, many retreat. His boldness and reputation are revered. Yet few people perceive the persistent flaws behind the man for Haru has found a way to repurpose his invisible undercurrents of obsessiveness, perfectionism and pride as tools of the lawman that see each mission to its conclusion. To him, the needs of the many must always outweigh those of the few, including himself, and the ends can most certainly justify the means. Though he may occasionally bend in these matters, he is the stick that will not break.

Archetype:

Myrmidon x VirtuosoMyrmidon Special – When taken as a Primary Archetype, the character can double his base Strength stat for one post each thread.Primary: PhysicalSecondary: ChakraTertiary: Mental
Stat Merits: +1 Stamina, +1 Reserves
Stat Flaws: -1 Power, -1 Willpower

So is drinking this fine tea! Mmm. Pour yourself a cup. I've been informed you would like me to start at the beginning. So here goes.

My grandpa, Jurou-sama, emigrated from Bear fifty years ago with only his beat up cello in hand. My only treasure in childhood was discovering I shared his talent, one of my few joys and only source of income when I was good enough. He was something else. And we were quite the pair. One day, we were invited to play in a variety concert at one of Sougen's smaller theatres. I was seven, just a cricket out of the long grass, but he took me, shoulders in hand like this and says: ’Son, just as the carpenter’s material is wood, the musician’s is that song of the soul that yearns to be played. You are crafting your life with your own two hands and it is the steadiness of those hands that will decide what kind of life that’s going to be. The audience does not matter until you say it does, for you alone know what you can do.’

Hah...well, the pressure fell away and my music took on a new fervour. That’s when my mother noticed something strange. I grew a third arm, grasping for the bow. What might have been my chakra's raw intent, a kind of unbidden Yoso no Te.

Thats– That's not possible. That doesn't just...

Happen? No. No, it doesn't. Even if it had only been the one instance, there are few credible explanations. No freak coil activation can explain away its form and functionality. And my parents? They didn't have a clue. So they kept it from me.

...When was the other instance?

On the day of the concert, when he and I were practising on stage. I was imagining my harmony while Jurou-sama played. That's when it happened. My eyes were closed. I was lost in the moment. Suddenly my part sounded impossibly real, but I thought it was my song of the soul, come to play. At one point my grandpa stopped playing, but I had to finish. And I did. Of course, I didn't have to. I shouldn’t have. He was sitting back, cello at rest. Serene but...gone. I hadn’t heard him die. And then I saw the arm, and it terrified me. Practically jumped out of my skin trying to shoo it away.

Later, we discovered cause of death had been a heart attack. I blamed myself. Still do. Can't change it. Can't fault myself either. But I believe it was the shock that killed him. And then I discovered my parents’ lies and I blamed their ignorance – their presumption that I was too immature to make any other choice than the one they feared. That I would leave them to play boy soldier. Get myself killed.

That wasn't why I left. Instigated by Grandpa's death, in the end, it was the opposite: I came to Kusagakure because I needed to understand what I did, what it meant and how to control it. Was it evil or the potential for something good? What had it meant to Jurou-sama? Why had he let me finish? What had he really seen? And what else could I do? I took some belongings, left the cello, just another kid at the gates looking for answers. My guilt was replaced by concern and the need for absolute control. I’d killed one man aged eight. What of eighteen?

I was so focused on finding a way to trust myself again, friendship was a foreign concept. I had set about crafting my life with my own two hands. They were a good pair of hands: steady; reliable – the kind you'd want to anchor your Genin team. If I hadn't been so distant, more people might have wanted me, but I went where directed, duty over passion.

And did it resurface?

No. Once I learned how to control my chakra, it only came as bidden. No more incidents. And in all my years, I still don't understand it. I...wonder if it's still there – the potential, slumbering. There has to be a reason. I know I'm not overthinking it.

And a bit emotionally stunted, I guess. At the time, of course. I mean, er—

It’s fine. He requested you, so speak freely.

He remembers me?

Clearly. Now why do you think that is?

He liked me. Fancied me. Asked me out… Years ago, of course! We were teenagers. I said no and usually, that would be it. But Haru had come to the dojo seeking sword skills to improve mental discipline and catch a break from his Genin team between missions. After getting shot down, he couldn't turn tail, so he stayed. And because he knew I knew he liked me, and didn't mind seeing him around, he relaxed a bit. Told me how he needed to be in control of situations, and tried to voice caution when his team overexerted themselves. He was projecting so, after staging an unsuccessful intervention, the other two faked a scenario designed to force Haru into going all out. It put the boy, Hyouma— Shit. Sorry, sorry! But, oh my god, Hyouma-sama! That’s right! Put Hyouma in dire peril against a masked assailant, Kohaku. She was the strongest of the three, supposedly, but was hospitalised. Haru…found it harder to trust people after that.

He trusted you enough to ask you out.

Not without a push. During the weeks of her recuperation, Ko and Hyouma grew close, found love. Haru felt it put a strain on mission protocol and stepped in. They told him he knew nothing of love. Dared him to ask again when he’d felt it. They didn’t know what he'd been through.

And he didn't find love with you.

No. But I like to think I helped him wise up and learn a thing or two about us girls, even if he did get a little infatuated in the process. He was thirteen, I was fifteen, but it could never be. I liked older boys. Like Ryota. When he asked, I didn’t have time for Haru any more. He remembers me, sure, but he probably hates me.

We will try to chase Chiasa-san for commentary, although such a high profile member of the Ashi Kuki will be hard to lock down given the current climate. Let us press on. I find this emotional journey of yours rather compelling. What happened after you parted ways?

I took some holiday and faced the music. I’d known love once before, in Sougen, but the city I loved had grown up without me: taller; more brightly coloured. Then again, some parts had become more run down. Strong parallels, there. Walking the old beat, listening to the street musicians — long dormant bulbs were lighting up inside me. Then I stepped into the shade of my old atrium and it was a Sakibou parade. Same building. Same steps. Same two-bed flat, but emptier. Just mum at the door, dad by the window. Same hunch, though he looked thinner.

I held it together through two cups of tea and a million moments where a shouting match seemed on the cards until they brought out my little cello, which they’d kept in pristine condition along with Jurou-sama’s, even when times had been hard and money scarce. It was all they had of ours. And my return, they said, had proved them wrong. That they hadn’t known what was best for me. They were just glad to have me back. And that was…everything I wanted to hear. Just like that. It didn’t feel real. I doubted their honesty. Then I doubted the haste with which I’d left. I felt sick, confused, but boy, did I need that.

How so?

Emotion is confusion, and love is pain mixed with hope, sometimes. Other times, it’s a different, heady concoction. I was allowing myself to feel again. I was done controlling. Because some things, you just can’t. Like Hyouma and Kohaku. I admitted I wasn't qualified to judge, and they did their best to forgive me. I feel Hyouma did the worse job. Kohaku had a higher threshold for failure.

Her murder came out of nowhere. Nomad kill squad from Sound crashed a mission shortly thereafter. In our grief, the only thing Hyouma and I could agree on was that the team had to die. No one could replace Ko. We put ourselves forward for Sakibou, to be recognised in the tournament and both push for graduation on merit. The winner could be petty and dedicate their hollow victory to Ko. We fought to a standstill, but we both knew I had more in the tank that he couldn’t match. He’d already reached his limit so he surrendered, leaving me to win that year. Got my precious Chuunin promotion while some hotshot sponsor picked up Humble Hyouma for special training before the official Exams.

You sound bitter.

I’m not. The taste in my mouth was, the achievement ashen given the circumstances. What we truly wanted couldn't be won.

In all our time together, I still feel like I only got a taste of the good stuff. Haru kept the hard feelings close to the chest and wore the easy ones on his sleeve. We did have some fond times though, and I was his first. He was so awkward and cheesy and gentlemanly in the beginning, somewhere between being the most natural version of himself and trying too hard. When his music became part of the package, he was beautiful. So enlivened. Driven. Looking for other ways to use his gifts. I understand why we had to end things.

I would like to return to that. Can you describe the beginning? You two would have been fourteen, fifteen.

When I met him? He certainly wasn’t flavour of the month. Captain Takeda doesn’t suffer fools gladly now, and had even less patience then, and Haru had a lot to answer for. After he graduated, he’d had two successful six-month tours as a Hanibuke protector, but no incursions. No work, really. That changed when he decided to deploy as a hunter, following his 'song of the soul', and his first assignment in that arena became his last. He'd thought to corner his quarry on home turf near the Stone Ring, but their fight spilled onto the hallowed stones and out of Haru's control.

The collateral damage to the Ring that day is a sore spot among my brethren, but some acts do have a way of cleaning one’s slate.

Those were a long way off! Anyway, someone must have been pulling for him, because all he got was a demotion and a transfer to Village patrol.

Perhaps Captain Takeda?

Beats me. Haru was the last person he wanted working for him. He was plainly vocal about that. Smacked him with desk duty as soon as he arrived, a prison of paperwork. He moved up from desk, to traffic, to beat cop, then down again, trying to prove himself by going above and beyond, but often half-cocked or without backup. The Captain’s no-nonsense leadership and gruelling standards definitely helped curb most of these habits with time, forcing him to learn. Personally, I think he was just getting better at pleasing the captain, reshaping rather than replacing the working parts.

Playing to the man’s favour?

In a way, but also becoming more resilient. Starting to accept his flaws and adapt his strengths, but not compromise his values. Take things in his stride. For all our failings, he was really maturing when we got together. A heavy heart, but an honest one too.

I’d be lying if I claimed there was never a point where I considered Haru my enemy. We had never been friends. Not truly. Something about him had always grated on me. Maybe it was how he never let things go, doggedly pursuing a goal to completion. That was the only way he was ever satisfied — nothing left unfinished.

A blessing and a curse?

More the latter. It came out in his work: finding cause for Ko and I not to be together; giving closure to his time at the Stone Ring with an audacious hunting tactic; attempting to repair his sullied reputation by policing beyond his remit. It all backfired, but still he pushed the envelope. Sometimes until it tore.

It seemed he was able to find some joy. Not everything backfired.

If you’re talking about Maiko, that was the worst part! Poor girl never knew it, but she started as an accessory to one of his obsessions. He was right to end things after stringing her along for all those years.

What do you mean?

There was one case which plagued Haru. Some patrolmen were on the trail of a person of interest, chasing them across his traffic duty and, of course, Haru saw this as an opportunity to help. He caught up, knowing the streets better than those gumshoes, but was beaten. And this time, couldn’t let it go, even after Takeshi shut down his off-the-books digging. Something had happened in the confrontation to create the unshakeable impression that he had to follow up. That the case was meant for him. Fate. He needed access to records that were beyond his reach, and who should work as a clerk in his precinct? If there is one thing I could say about him back then, it’s that he wasn’t afraid to play the long game.

It helped that Maiko was a fan of live music. He asked her out with the promise of a concert, for which he brought his cello down at the end of their date and serenaded the neighbourhood, performing publicly for the first time in, oh, ten years. It was for the cause, but it was also a big deal to him. He didn’t have to do any of these things, and it never had to lead to a long-term relationship, but I know he liked her, and could have loved her. If only it hadn’t been founded on a lie. Although he’s never told me outright, I believe there were some times when he considered giving up his vendetta and just accepting that it had led to something unlikely and beautiful as a result. There’s no other way to explain how long he waited before taking advantage of her trust to get at those records.

And when he did?

He got more than he’d bargained for. The fugitive was a spy with a history, first evading a hunter at the Stone Ring and then stealing intel on a number of projects in the years after. His person of interest. And mine.

We have spoken to him. He paints an…interesting picture. A rather dark portrait.

Hm. Well, whatever he’s saying, I’m inclined to agree. We’ve all made mistakes. Done things to serve ourselves at the expense of others. I’m no saint. He knows me, probably better than I know myself sometimes. I’m lucky to have a friend like him to keep me in check.

Yes…how did that happen? After your access to the records office.

He told you about that? Hm. I knew he wouldn’t pull any punches. Probably better from him. Legally, I toed the line. Morally, I crossed it. But at the end of the day, a Sennin has to go where called to do what needs to be done. We live in the grey areas. And deliver results. Mine, in this case, was a solid lead that could help vindicate my career mishaps and, I resolved, heal old wounds in the process.

The big question was how to approach Hyouma. This time it had to be different; I wanted someone to trust, not a tool to use, so the way I went about it had to be genuine. Like when you’re talking down a hostage-taker, and you show them the person behind the badge who cares that everyone makes it out alive. But Hyouma had never seen the real me: the song of my soul; the song that yearned to be played. I auditioned for Sakibou’s main stage event that year, which I’d heard the Kusakage and all non-deployed military personnel would be attending, with a duet titled ‘Kohaku’s First Dance.’ To most everyone there, I’d be playing to Naohiro-sama, and the song would resonate patriotically, but I made sure Hyouma knew the true subject by introducing the performance with a message he’d recognise: a song about first love, for those who have felt it, those who have yet to, and those it has never left.

I recall it... You brought two cellos onto the stage. We’d...never seen anything like it. Your second cello...fastened to the back of your chair? Revolving — on a platform — a duet. The Yoso no Te arms played a harmony equal to your melody. I remember Kohaku-sama himself standing for the ovation.

And some would say that was the greatest accolade, in front of tens of thousands. But they were not present in the room when it was just Hyouma and me, and tears in his eyes. He said she would have liked the song, even though she had professed to be a terrible dancer. I cut to the chase. Told him he was the only person who could help me. Anything less than the truth and he’d have seen through my actions. I had to show my cards, show that I had everything to lose but that it meant that much. That he meant that much. Like Kohaku had...

Hyouma recognised this. Respected it. Went out on a limb and let me tag along on his case because he knew how much it meant. He finally knew the real me, so he knew the real stakes. And we got the guy. Together. Now, that wasn’t promotion-worthy. I had to keep my involvement to a minimum to allay any of Takeshi’s suspicions, but Hyouma had some sway with the higher-ups, and there was a good case put forward for my advancement to Investigator.

My son, Investigator for the Hidden Village. Heir to the people’s hearts. He wasn’t yet their hero but..he was getting there. He was ours.

Why not a hero? If he’d captured the people’s hearts, would that not be enough?

Good question. I don’t rightly claim to know much about what makes a man a hero to so many, but it was undeniable that the depth of his feelings were made plain to see that day. And he seemed happy to continue wearing them on his sleeve in the months and years that followed, well into his early twenties. His music became renowned to the point where people started calling him by other names: the Cellist; the Maestro; Golden Bow; Greensleeves, on account of that shinobi magic he loved so much. They saw fit to see it all before his work for the Village. He was an artist first and foremost. Came to settle in Sougen. Just down the road. Brought only good things to our city. Made himself right at home, tryna’ make a difference.

And what would you say were the highlights of his tenure there?

Ah…the whole thing? Helping the communities and the businesses. Getting the balance right. Charity work. Volunteering. Solving his fair share of crimes and meeting new people all the while. Opening up just the right amount. I don’t know where he got it from. My parents would’ve been proud. His granda— He'd have been proud of the concert hall! Haru exposed some corporate construction scandal. In the trial, he made his case that damages be paid in full through community service: rebuilding what they’d torn down, but building it back better. And when it was all said and done, my boy stood side by side with the men and women who worked those yards, laying brick one day, soothing souls with songs the next. Painting, planting. He led the way and we all mucked in. It was like...an awakening. My son was growing before my eyes. Connecting with everyone he came in contact with.

Mm. Everyone, you say. So it was all good times. No setbacks.

Huh. If you're talking about the girlfriend, they ended things about a year in. Mutually, I’m told, not long after he'd cracked that case wide open. My wife and I were prepared for it. I think he was too. There were...reasons, he said. Not just the distance. I didn't push. But aside from that, yes. I can't recall a single major setback, even after he left us again. He left us with friends in the department. Men and women we could trust. Who trusted him.

Indeed. Enough to vouch for a Jounin promotion. For duty “above and beyond the mandate of one’s position … rooting out discord and strife, conspiracy and criminality … restoration of the community” and “serving one’s unit with valour becoming of an officer.”

Golden Bow? Pfft. Yeah. I’d heard that one. I never put much stock in what a shinobi chooses to do off the clock. It’s when he’s on that matters.

So you weren’t impressed?

I wouldn’t say that. Depends what you’re talking about. You just leave the golden monikers to me, ’n the silvers to Tora. We’re talking shadowed steel when it came to Haru-sama, which I’m still inclined to call him. I can count on the one hand the number of times I’ve actually seen him draw his sword, and that’s since meeting him when I was fourteen. The number? ‘Only when necessary.’ He knew how to get into their heads; knew how to win a fight without drawing a lick of blood. This one time, he walked into a bank and actually made a robber piss himself before voluntarily turning himself in. And it wasn’t all on account of the genjutsu, either. When he came back to the Hidden Village, he was even more than he’d been made out to be, and he served with every ounce of his being. I mean, have you met the guy? Seems taller and broader than a shade over six foot, doesn’t he? Even now, we’re practically the same height but I still always feel like I’m looking up.

You worked cases with him back then?

Yeah. If it were anyone else, I’d feel compelled to correct you and say he worked cases with me, but it was a little strange. He reminded me… Hm. He reminded me of someone I’d looked up to in the past. And it threw me. Threw me for a loop. Because we worked well together. Hammered out a super high solve rate between us. Well, and the rest of the department. And, I guess…I didn’t actually see much of the Golden Bow side of him. I could see where it'd left its mark. But, as I said, over the years, he gave the job his all, so it’s safe to say the music suffered. Sure. But it had never been a crutch of any kind. He didn’t depend on it to give him stature or status. The way he brought some of us young’uns along. How he worked with other Jounin like Hyouma-sama, even after everyone was mixed up into different divisions. Keeping his head on straight — Lieutenant rank was practically made for him.

Yeah, sure. You want I should make this quick? Met when I was nineteen, I guess, twenty. Worked with the guy over five years before Gar…before the shakeup. Before he got Lieutenant. I reckon there was some peace to be made with the cost of his promotion, but he never showed it. He took over security in the East when the prisoners broke out, in charge of cordoning off the region near Sougen, developing screening processes, staffing the checkpoints and sending teams to flush out fugitives in hiding. You know, man behind the curtain stuff. Then he got called back to the Village. Batsu, my guess, wanting all the eggs in a basket, within cracking range. And that bastard, Akira, didn’t help matters — one of Man’s lieutenants who tried and failed to poach Goldie and me, but got a fair few of the youngers for his SS squads. Stuck Haru like a knife in the back, but not to the temple.

He didn’t appreciate the competition?

Nah. Didn’t appreciate those jack-hats in the SS stealing away officers under his command with Scarlet promises that couldn't be kept. But he made sure to play the game, or at least appear to be playing it, for the benefit of the division. There were times when it was knife edge in the bull pen, the SS swooping in with little more than a piece of paper from the shitter which they claimed gave em rights to our detainees, our files, our cases. Haru stopped things from getting messy. When I couldn’t be there, of course. Heh.

So you’d say he had a good handle on events? After all, a lot happened in the space of just a few months, including the tumultuous rise of our great leader, Fukumen.

Had to. Even with everything going on, Captain Matsuyama had him in charge of captured prisoners who could be repurposed for the greater good. You know…serve time on the outside. He was their handler, but that’s as far as my clearance gets me. I reckon they keep pretty tight wraps on most of em who serve, about their pasts, but mine is not to reason why; mine’s to catch the scumbags still out there breaking laws unchecked. There’s more than enough of those to go round.

Thank you, but no. I’ve had more than enough for one sitting. And there’s more to be said.

The Chuku.

That was when we knew what to call them. Men in black. Shadows. Ninja Bane. All kinds of names to familiarise ourselves with the unfamiliar. They were a short-lived plague that ravaged our ranks and our trust in each other. In our own abilities. Our likelihood to live to see the next day.

“We were shocked.”

Verbatim. When they first appeared, I was running a mission to flush escapees out of known holdouts near the eastern border, commanding teams of Chuunin remotely. They ambushed one of my units in the field. I knew from the intel and timeline of their skirmish that this was something else, and knew from my men’s screams that I had to intervene. But even I wasn’t prepared for what I found. Two of them had my three on the ropes. They weren’t shinobi. Didn’t move like us. Fight like us. Didn’t seem to feel pain like us either, even after I broke one in two and the body vanished like smoke from a snuffed lantern. Lent credence to the case of why I abandoned my post, against mandate. The Brass had been looking to see if I could command, remain impartial, centred. Delegate. They decided to give me another chance, in time. First, we had to deal with the problem. Capture one alive.

I wasn’t part of that mission, but I did what I could, working behind the scenes, training the men and women of KISEO to do what I had done. Overwhelm. Attack the mind when the body seemed unassailable, attack the body when the mind was weakened. They weren’t demons, though they wished they were. They were men. Women. If they couldn't be defeated, they could at least be beaten back, their energy sapped, their offensive abraded. I was teaching shinobi in pairs, partners to fall back on trust and instinct when there was no time for planning, who could fight as one, two to a shade. It wasn’t perfect, but it saved lives. At the end of the day, that’s what I’m here to do.

How did you feel when Mamotou-sama condoned their actions, these men from Bear?

I’ll say it. Betrayed. Then angered at what followed, with the people goaded into a prevalent distrust of all shinobi. They weren’t to know they were clearly being manipulated. It motivated the hell out of me. I was green-lit for the strike on Bama that cut out the Chuku’s heart. From the moment we inserted into the village, it was over for them.

I’m glad you mentioned that. We’re waiting on the paperwork to come through for your personal action report. The official statement doesn’t cover much, but we have it on good authority that it was you who led the Jounin team to defeat and capture their leader, almost single-handedly vanquishing a four-man squad of Chuku agents while your unit took the prize. And yet you have never claimed responsibility. Why is that?

Hm… Good question. I will answer with one of my own. If such a thing were true, would it not be selfish to ask for accolades beyond any which Fukumen might bestow? What does the record say happened next?

Well, that you— Hah. So that’s a confirmation, then?

It is what it is. I’m wasn't looking for glory. But when I was made Strike Commander, I accepted the position gladly and moved on. Bama wasn’t the endgame. There was more for me to do.

As Sougen’s favourite son. You were one of the more talked-about local legends.

Granted. But I don't bask in what I achieve. I don't do it for me. That would be taking my eye off the quarry, which in the past year or so has been bridging divides in a country coming to despise our kind.

As a Sennin, no less.

Yes. That came with the promotion. It is a role that has allowed me to scale things up recently, setting up a Nexus command for all Eastern Ops, based in Sougen. As an offshoot of KISEO, EON is my own self-sustaining team of trusted men and women who function across the country in their normal roles, but will rotate into action as and when called upon, or if I leave the country. It’s a very organic organisational structure but it works. And it's not just held together by my good name. Not any more – even with the EKD station set up to match our every move. There have been considerable setbacks. Detective Tora’s been more outspoken in recent weeks about the workload, but they all know why we do it. Of course...EON is more than just an investigatory bureau for the region.

To put it another way – the way I have come to see it – there are some Kage who are swayed by heroic service, inspiring words and noble undertakings to bestow the title of Sennin upon a man. But as you and I know, this is a land where standalone gestures mean little. It is a country of tumult and persisting conflict, like a house of cards eternally reshuffling. Many levels, all interconnected, with tipping points across the board. Without constant care, it crumbles. Without those around whom Fukumen can trust to do what must be done, it falls. He is the architect; I am the craftsman. And it's not always a clean job.

Sometimes it means stepping into the thin shadows cast by the house and treading lines no one else will – or can. EON continues to exist because it has proven valuable in less obvious ways. It is both hard and soft power in a nation at war with itself, but also a subtle screen. It allows me to separate the work I do in the public eye from that which takes place in the grey areas of the job. It protects the people from what they do not need to know.

Are you not worried that the facade might fail and undermine all you have built?

There is a chance, but ultimately it would not alter the work I do.

...In that regard, I suppose I have not changed as much as I thought...

I don't manipulate people the way I used to, certainly, but I do still believe that the end can justify the means. And on the grand scale, the sullying of my good name is a small price to pay personally for the preservation of our country. My only fear is that in doing so, it would undermine the institutions and projects built up around me, and crush the people inspired to act by my example. And that is why I do my utmost to make sure that day never comes. And that all the work we continue to do becomes a force for good independent of any one man.

...I see. In that case, let's move past the what, or the who, to the how. Let's talk about Druid’s Heart. How are you limiting its effects in the region?

It’s true that crime and officer injuries have both skyrocketed of late. I have had to step in personally on more than one occasion. But we are managing. I train all officers under my command to fight in unison with any partner they’re assigned. And while the EKD is still infringing on our turf, they are struggling just as much. More so, even. They were brought into existence to fight shinobi. Druid’s Heart users are unpredictable. More often than not, we have to watch out for the EKD going too far in trying to negotiate the difference. And while that puts civilian and shinobi users in even greater peril, it’s shown that EON has the clear moral and practical high ground in serving the people.

I'd complain about how you didn't list most of the requirements, but it turns out sennin just naturally qualify for basically everything so it wasn't difficult to check. Still kind of annoying though.

I presume you won't pull the whole using ninjutsu without hand seals thing in an RP and that's strictly a biography thing. On a lower rank character that'd probably be a big deal but sennin are supposed to be weird prodigies, right? So maybe it's fine.

That last chunk of the bio is really weird not in a factual sense but in the way it breaks from the way the rest of the bio runs. So it's not enough for not to go ahead and half approve since the county county bits are all good. It's just strange to go from these tiny little anecdotes to a sudden wall of text info dump about the last few big events in Grass history. Not really a criticism, just an observation.

I worried over Guardian for a while. Yes, it's boring, but there weren't any archetypes save a custom one that seemed to fit. I might revisit that this week if you think it could go another way.

I did show all the requirements, in fact, at the bottom of each list. I went through everything and compiled them into totals that would be easier to review because I know it's a painstaking job for you guys (I've been told as much with previous character sheets). The other side of the logic was that when you have a sennin who knows so many jutsu, most stat reqs turn into redundant clutter on the page, so only listing the highest thresholds is actually useful. I'll edit those bits for clarity to read: "Total requirements"

I didn't plan on pulling a handseal fiasco. The childhood incident serves a purpose, though I'm not yet sure what it means for the character. Definitely not that he can pull something like that out of the bag whenever he wants. I'm well aware that Hitoko's sennin requires a special gauntlet for that skill so even if I did intend to skirt the rules I would need a similar device, but I don't think I will. I like the limitations of hand-seals.

I could revisit the 'info dump' if you'd like. The idea was that these were all excerpts from the various interviews of Haru and his peers that blend together to form a complete picture in a way that no single conversation ever could, no matter how self-aware Haru might be. There are things that some people can never know about themselves. But the last bit qualifies for about 6-7 minutes of interview time, which isn't a lot when you consider how much ground this part covers -- the most important aspects of the conversation, the events preceding and following his promotion.

If the length isn't to your liking, I could probably amend that, but I didn't want any character other than Haru to reveal his take on these events.

Edit 1: I trimmed the last bit down so that it's only about twice the length of a normal excerpt now. Hope that fits more naturally. It certainly looks better.

Edit 2: Then I went back and restructured it so that it's not info I'm dumping but character continuity, following Merdle's explanation of the tonal shift you may have experienced.

In part four, there are some accidental anachronisms. KISEO, as a division, was sort of pieced together from other positions rather recently. For that reason, the 'precinct' buildings are recent. Before, village patrol, hunter-nin, and investigators, were different jobs that didn't directly work out of one building. Captain Takeda Shinji (whose name I think you typo, or you're making up a captain) could still have been prominent within controlling village patrol, but I would cut out the word precinct for something else.

A lot of that is here in the 2nd and 3rd posts. But mainly, I'd drop mention of 'detectives' and replace it all with Investigators and/or Hunters.

Anyway, I agree with Junge that spontaneous jutsu without seals (or seal knowledge) is strange. Honestly, if it has a basis in something, or would lead somewhere story-wise, I would allow it. That is to say, if it is a hook of a personal arc for the character, outside of him thinking he spooked his grandpa.

The idea of the EON and him having some KISEO people under his sway now, is fine by me, for the record of anyone posting after.

Now for my usual Sennin character speech (shortened, because my wrist hurts because I'm old): Sennin characters are different in every place, because they are not a 'true' rank. By all means, sennin seems to be more a title people rise into, instead of a recognized rank. You are a sennin when you are so strong that even the kage of your village is like 'whoa'. To the degree that in canon, sennin don't seem to stay in villages (because in a world where the strongest ninja tends to rule the village, what kind of ninja is just going to keep someone as strong as them nearby?) For the 'nice' villages, I can see sennin being granted for exceptional service and being awesome, but different kage have different ideas of who to give that. Fukumen, for instance, is often morally grey. Notice that the two other Sennin attributed to Grass (The bug sage, and Jaunty's old sennin) have no urge to lead the village, heck they don't even lead squads. This character, on the other hand, is definitely a leader. So in character, it becomes a question of how Fukumen would plan to deal with the eventuality of Haru betraying him or challenging his authority.

But that isn't a question your character, or their bio, needs to answer. It is just a comment to make it clear that Fukumen probably isn't out there patting Haru on the back, unless he has a specific purpose in doing so.

Other notes, I feel like it is interesting that the bio focuses a lot on his relationships, and how he abuses them to complete his duty. But then that story thread doesn't run through the parts of the biography that deal with current events. It isn't a problem, but it felt like a shift in theme and tone, and is probably part of what Junge felt.

In part four, there are some accidental anachronisms. KISEO, as a division, was sort of pieced together from other positions rather recently. For that reason, the 'precinct' buildings are recent. Before, village patrol, hunter-nin, and investigators, were different jobs that didn't directly work out of one building. Captain Takeda Shinji (whose name I think you typo, or you're making up a captain) could still have been prominent within controlling village patrol, but I would cut out the word precinct for something else.

Yup, typo. I did spend ages poring over all that stuff long ago but I lost some of that prep in the writing process and didn't realise. So the anachronisms are gone. Thanks for spotting that.

Quote:

Originally Posted by merdle

Anyway, I agree with Junge that spontaneous jutsu without seals (or seal knowledge) is strange. Honestly, if it has a basis in something, or would lead somewhere story-wise, I would allow it. That is to say, if it is a hook of a personal arc for the character, outside of him thinking he spooked his grandpa.

*I thought a lot about that yesterday on my walk to work, after reading your post. I had definitely made the character reactions too blasé for something so unusual, so I decided to beef up its importance. It doesn't reappear after he gains control of his chakra, and he's still not sure what it was, though it's clear he has suspicions.

I was then wondering if I could tie that into an archetype special or make it a story hook. It would love to delve into his family history to find something from Bear that could have affected those in his lineage. Less dramatic would be to explain it away as part of the archetype, removing some of the mystery of 'what' but retaining the potential for later discovering the 'why'.

So far, I've been able to come up with this as an option. It is unique, and would work for a combo archetype based on Myrmidon+Virtuoso or Myrmidon+Human Battery, but it's also highly context-dependent, and only really useful in instances where Haru doesn't have use of his hands:

- Once every 5 threads and with GM approval the user can perform any single jutsu that they are proficient in (Stage 1-7) without the use of hand seals.

There's more work to be done on that drawing board, but following Junge's initial remark, I toyed with combo archetypes that might be better suited to Haru.

Quote:

Originally Posted by merdle

The idea of the EON and him having some KISEO people under his sway now, is fine by me, for the record of anyone posting after.

Thank you.

Quote:

Originally Posted by merdle

Now for my usual Sennin character speech (shortened, because my wrist hurts because I'm old): Sennin characters are different in every place, because they are not a 'true' rank. By all means, sennin seems to be more a title people rise into, instead of a recognized rank. You are a sennin when you are so strong that even the kage of your village is like 'whoa'. To the degree that in canon, sennin don't seem to stay in villages (because in a world where the strongest ninja tends to rule the village, what kind of ninja is just going to keep someone as strong as them nearby?) For the 'nice' villages, I can see sennin being granted for exceptional service and being awesome, but different kage have different ideas of who to give that. Fukumen, for instance, is often morally grey. Notice that the two other Sennin attributed to Grass (The bug sage, and Jaunty's old sennin) have no urge to lead the village, heck they don't even lead squads. This character, on the other hand, is definitely a leader. So in character, it becomes a question of how Fukumen would plan to deal with the eventuality of Haru betraying him or challenging his authority.

But that isn't a question your character, or their bio, needs to answer. It is just a comment to make it clear that Fukumen probably isn't out there patting Haru on the back, unless he has a specific purpose in doing so.

Other notes, I feel like it is interesting that the bio focuses a lot on his relationships, and how he abuses them to complete his duty. But then that story thread doesn't run through the parts of the biography that deal with current events. It isn't a problem, but it felt like a shift in theme and tone, and is probably part of what Junge felt.

In an initial draft, I did have Haru remark that Grass wasn't like other villages, where acts of heroism were rewarded with a rise to sennin-hood. That for this kind of position, Fukumen needed a vassal he could trust to tread in the grey spaces like he did, and go where others feared to. Suggesting that his public face was also something of a guise to lift up the nation and protect those who didn't need to know the less honourable deeds he might have to do for his lord.

I've suggested that he's changed in recent years, and doesn't abuse relationships any more, and perhaps that can be true in the local sense of the word. He's true to his friends and allies, and open with his enemies. But maybe he's simply scaled up the practice to the national level. I'll add something of that nature. Because you're right - people don't always shake their demons so easily. And everyone is flawed. Maybe he could never challenge Fukumen (not that he'd want to) because his lord has the potential to hold something over him. Some kind of blackmail. Not that he would. But just in case. Fukumen probably realises Haru's ability to help sway public opinion favourably, and so recognises an ally/tool in his soft power warfare. Granting him the title of sennin aligns them more clearly in the public eye.

Quote:

Originally Posted by merdle

Anyway, fix the naming convention issues, and I'll take another look.

Done. I'll PM you when I've made the other changes to bio content noted above.

General Update: The chakra arm is now a story hook, and rendered thus in the bio; Archetype changed to Myrmidon Primary. Ready for the review.